The Dancer
by Isobel.Salmon
Summary: Set at the turn of the century in Paris, Franklin comes across a young woman struggling to enter the Moulin Rouge. Desperate to find a way to pay for medicine and rent Reina will do anything to provide for her ailing mother. But when she encounters Franklin one evening she realises she may be selling more than she's willing.
1. Chapter 1

**I feel I should do a massive apology! This is my first fanfiction that I'm posting online and it does what I would normally never do! I've been procrastinating on essays recently and started watching True Blood; although the character Franklin is short lived I loved his character. I've wanted to write an original story based on the plotline in this fanfic however with three others on the go at the moment and trying to finish a degree I didn't want to forget the plotline! I loved Franklin's personality, the insecurity and general psychoness and thought he'd be perfect for this. So I'm so sorry that it's a Franklin x OC! I'n hoping to introduce a few of the other vampire characters into it at a later date.**

**I should also apologise for tweeking his history a bit!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the **_**True Blood**_** characters.**

**Chapter One  
><strong>**Paris 1899**

A young woman sat on the wall encircling the Sacré-Cœur, the sun was slowly sinking into the Parisian horizon turning the sky a brilliant cherry blossom pink. The air was thick with the heat from the summer day and the scent of roses filled her nostrils with every breath. Amethyst eyes glanced over towards the Tour Eiffel, a giant iron structure which had been completed earlier in the year and towered over Paris. _Over one hundred years,_ she found herself thinking of the Revolution. The one that should have changed everything. But had it? France was now a republic, but it was clearly the rich who still ruled. There was of course a greater feeling of liberation, but the presence of poverty was still all too clear. The young woman looked down at her tattered skirt and sighed; in her left hand she clutched her wooden rosary, her thumb stroking the curved wooden balls, coarse with splinters.

"Please Lord…I know it is a sin, but I need to work." She blinked back tears and pushed herself backwards to climb from the wall. She slowly made her way down the steep steps leading back down to the streets of Paris. The sky gradually grew darker as the sun disappeared, she heard the trees rustling in the light breeze, but the sound of footsteps completed eluded her. As she reached the bottom of the hill she joined the bustling crowds, people didn't give her a second glance as she walked quietly along heading towards her destination. Despite the warmness of the night her feet grew cold through their flimsy and worn leather shoes. She couldn't afford stockings but thankfully her tattered skirt kept her legs hidden.

She paused opposite the brilliant red building, her destination. Already men in their suits were streaming through the doors, hurrying towards their sordid evening pleasures. Nervously she ran a shaky hand through her midnight hair and looked at the spinning blades.

"The Moulin Rouge," she looked behind her startled at the strange voice.

"Bonne soirée, sir." She greeted the man nervously, her eyes flicking up and down. He was dressed in a deep black suit; his waistcoat glistened like water under the moonlight. She tried to make out his features but he stood back with his face hidden in the shadows. All she could make out was the paleness of his hands.

"You will not get in looking like that, not without an escort at least."

"I…I wasn't –"

"Do not lie." Her cheeks flamed with heat and she looked down at her feet feeling like a scolded child. "You have been coming here for the past several days; I have watched them turn you away on the days you pluck up the courage to walk up to the door. I feel your humiliation," he stepped out from beneath the shadows and leant forward in a small bow. "Please allow me to help you in." He held out his hand, the smile he gave her was predatory but his dark eyes were soft. For a few moments all she could do was stare at the outstretched hand, it was so pale. She thought of the Sacré-Cœur, shining white and brilliant in the sunlight. His skin was like that, a brilliant white, almost glowing in the dark. Tentatively she reached out and rested her hand in his. It was cold like ice.

"You are _freezing_," she went to withdraw her hand but his own quickly encased it, imprisoning it with his strong grip.

"You are just warm," he gently took a step towards her, his eyes slowly lingering over the soft features of her face. "What is your name?"

"Reina," she whispered suddenly feeling as if her mouth was full of cotton. "I – I should not be here…"

"I agree, with a name like that you should be a nun." Reina's cheeks flamed with once more, horrified at his blasphemy. "Why do you want to go in there?"

"We need money…this is the only way…"

"There are other brothels."

"I…that is _not_ why I am here." Although horrified that a stranger would think something of her she could not blame him. That was what happened in the Moulin Rouge. "I…I want to dance. Nothing else."

"They will want you to do more than just _dance_," the man spat venomously, Reina flinched at his anger but she could see it wasn't directed at her. "I will help you in Reina, but think carefully. Is this truly the life you want?" Reina thought back to what awaited her at home, her mother sick and coughing up blood. Their landlord threatening to evict them. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away.

"I have no choice," she whispered thickly. "Please, if you could help me just get in I would be in your debt…"

"Very well," he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her into the thick of the crowd. "My name is Franklin."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"See the plump one dressed in red velvet?" Reina's eyes sought out the man Franklin described; he wasn't too hard to spot in a sea of black silk. "_That_ is the man you will need to impress." She nodded, her breath coming out in short nervous gasps. All around her were men and women, the women were all breathtakingly beautiful. Their skin shone like the moon, just like Franklins. She paused to watch the dancers in awe, their slender legs kicking high into the air, above their heads. "Can you do that?" She looked at Franklin nervously, the way his dark eyes lingered on her skirt.

"T – Thank you for getting me in," she tried to extract her hand from the crook of his arm but he held it there in place.

"What do you know of this place? Truly know?" He tilted her chin up so she was forced to look at him.

"That it is a place for entertainment –"

"It is a place for _sex_, Reina. The women here are not ordinary women, look at them. Look _closely_." Reina looked at a woman who was encircled by men; her hair was the golden hue of the sun contrasting against the whiteness of her skin. She watched as the woman kicked her right leg high into the air and rested it on one man's shoulder, in the blink of an eye she had her left leg on another man's shoulder so that she was performing the splits. "These women live by the night." Reina watched in horrified fascination as the woman performing the splits took a man by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close, pressing her lips against his. Instinctively she reached into the makeshift pocket of her skirt, a piece of fabric sewn on three sides with an opening, and pulled out her rosary. "Put that _away_," Franklin hissed and she quickly slipped it back into her pocket. He led her towards the man dressed in red velvet; he was laughing and smoothing his auburn moustache with a gloved hand.

"Charles!" For a split second Reina's hand was freed from Franklin's grasp, but before she could inch away he had her clasped against him once more. "Allow me to introduce you to Reina," he swept Reina in front of the plump man's gaze and forced her head up to look at him. Her eyes met the man's, they were small and watery. He nodded slightly and pushed himself away from the table. "He will ask you questions, answer them honestly. Do _not_ lie." Reina forced herself to nod, her legs had turned to stone and Franklin was now practically dragging her beside him.

"I…this is a mistake," she whispered trying to pull away once more but Franklin gripped her arm.

"It would be rude to turn back now." Reina let out a small gasp of pain as he squeezed her arm; he looked down to see his fingers cutting off the circulation. "Forgive me," he released her arm and pressed his lips to her bare skin. "I only want to help you." Grasping her arm once more he followed Charles to the back office of the Moulin Rouge.

"Does she have a patron?"

"If she will accept me then I would like to be her patron." Reina looked at Franklin, confused and frightened about what she was getting herself into.

"Why do you want to work at the Moulin Rouge?"

"I – I want to dance…sir." Charles sat behind a large mahogany desk and gestured for Franklin to take the seat opposite. Reina remained standing, nervously twisting her hands as the two men lit cigarettes and poured red wine into two small glasses.

"The ladies here do not just _dance_," Charles's lip curled in disgust as he sneered at her. "The ladies are artists, you saw outside what they do. Are you intact?"

"I…I do…" Reina shook her head unsure of what he was asking.

"Never mind." Charles sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily. "She is pretty," he turned to Franklin, "are you sure you want to patron her? She looks as if she has come from the gutter. I will not accept her dressed like that. Or intact. My clients do not come here for that, nor is that we are in the habit of selling."

"It will all be taken care of." Reina looked between the two men as they clinked their glasses and drained the thick red liquid within. Charles opened a drawer by his side and rummaged through a stack of papers.

"Read and sign." He told Reina gesturing her to step towards the desk. She glanced down at the sheaf of papers but the ink scrawled upon it meant nothing. She realised the two men were staring at her intently.

"Where do I sign?"

"Do you not want to read the rest first?" Franklin gently moved the top sheet of paper to reveal several more sheets beneath it. Blushing Reina picked up the stack and ran her eyes across the markings, when she reached the final page she accepted a quill from Franklin and pressed the nib to the paper. She moved the quill but nothing happened, her breathing quickened as she felt her heart begin to race. Her mouth grew dry as she began to panic, her ears pricked at the sound of glass sliding against wood and her eyes rested on the pot of ink pushed towards her. Hurriedly she dipped the quill's tip into the liquid and scribbled across the bottom of the last page.

"Bring her back tomorrow; Lily will introduce her to our ways." Franklin stood up and bowed, wrapping an arm around Reina's waist he gently guided her from the office and out from the Moulin Rouge.

"I…don't quite understand what happened…" She looked up at Franklin, into his dark eyes. Her insides felt warm, as if she had been lying all day in the sun. His hands moved up to cup the sides of her face and gently he pressed his lips against hers.

"You were given a job, and tomorrow you will return here with me. But for now you are going to return home with me." Reina shook her head.

"I…that…my mother needs me at home."

"Reina, my sweet, I do not think you fully understand your position." His grip on her face tightened and she let out a small squeak. She tried to move away, to at least _look_ away, but Franklin kept hold of her gaze. "You do not want to return to the squalor you live in. Your family will be taken care of. Now, would you like to accompany me?"

"Yes," as Franklin's lips formed the words Reina felt herself nod and say it with him. "Of course I would. Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Reina's feet moved of their own accord, she felt as if she was floating. She felt calm, blissful. She followed Franklin to a carriage and nervously accepted his hand as he helped her into the carriage. As he closed the door the feeling of calm and bliss evaporated, she suddenly felt trapped and she moved to open the door. Franklin was upon her in a heartbeat, crushing her against the seat of the carriage. The carriage lurched forwards but still Franklin kept her pinned beneath him.

"Please…I can't breathe," she gasped.

"Why are you trying to run away?" His eyes were full of sorrow and Reina felt a pang of guilt.

"I – I'm not…but…" She shook her head, the walls felt as if they were closing in on them. A small scream escaped her as the carriage raced over the cobble. She had never before been in a carriage, she had always walked everywhere. "Please…can we walk?" She begged, Franklin reached into his jacket and pulled out a golden pocket watch. He nodded and mercifully moved away from her, leaning out of the window to command the driver to stop. "My mother will be worrying about me," Reina said timidly as they strolled down a cobbled path.

"Where is your home?" Reina shook her head; she couldn't tell this man where she lived. She barely knew him. _I am going to his home though,_ her free hand reached into her pocket to stroke her rosary. What was she doing? She knew she shouldn't be following this man, that she should go straight home to her mother. What if she was needed? "Reina I just want to help you. We have much to do tonight to prepare you for tomorrow evening, I promise you can return to your mother tomorrow but tonight you must accompany me." He caught her gaze once more and she felt the nerves coursing through her veins begin to calm. "Please, allow me to send one of my men to take care of your mother and assure her that you are safe." The urge to tell him where she left was unbearable, but shame held her back. Franklin's head moved closer to her, his eyes never releasing her gaze. "You should not be ashamed."

"Montmarte…we…my mother rents a small room in a brothel." Tears of shame stung her eyes but still she couldn't break her gaze from Franklins.

"Your mother is a whore." Shamefaced Reina nodded.

"I had hoped that if I could get a job at the Moulin Rouge I could make a living for us dancing." Thankfully Franklin looked away and she hurriedly blinked back the tears. He took her hand and placed it on his arm once more.

"They will not allow you to just dance. Men go there to be courted by beautiful young women, are you truly that naïve?"

"No! But…" She lapsed into silence and shook her head; she had always wanted to dance. Whenever she heard music she could feel the blood in her veins come alive. She only felt free when she was moving to the music, her feet counting the beats, her body twisting to and fro. "Where are you from?" She asked in an attempt to change the subject, "your French is very good but your accent…you are not from here."

"England."

"Do you travel often?"

"My work takes me far and wide." His tone was silky, inviting and Reina blushed. They continued walking in silence; the streets were now empty with only the odd person passing them. Reina could feel their stares as they took in her ragged and dirty appearance. She felt uncomfortable in this obviously privileged area; she knew what people were thinking when they passed them. "I assume you do not have any fashionable dresses? Or anything that is not…patched?" She looked down at her patched blouse and skirt and shook her head. "We are almost at my home, I will have someone take your measurements and find something appropriate for you to wear tomorrow."

"Oh please, you really shouldn't!" Reina protested horrified, she would never be able to afford to repay him.

"Nonsense. I agreed to become your patron this is what I must do."

"And what do you get in return?" She asked nervously, as he turned to flash her a smile she was sure she saw _fangs_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: This chapter contains sexual scenes – you were warned!**

**Chapter Four**

The view from Franklin's apartment was breath taking, the Tour Eiffel was directly opposite with the moonlight glimmering on the Seine. "I have never seen it up close before…" She was so enthralled by the view she didn't notice Franklin step up behind her and gently pull at the lacings of her clothes. "What are you doing?" She gasped pushing him away, but his hands restrained her gently.

"I told you, we need to measure you for a new dress." He cupped her chin and stared intently into her eyes. "You are beautiful Reina, but you cannot return to the Moulin Rouge in rags – you will be thrown out, contract or not." _This is wrong_, a small voice was shouting at Reina to run. To get out and return to her mother. _He knows where you live, running will not do any good._ She gasped as her legs were touched by cool air; her tattered blouse soon followed leaving her in nothing but her ragged corset and undergarments. "You poor child," Franklin seemed genuinely distressed at her appearance; his hands ran along her shoulders and down to the curve of her hips. He clicked his fingers and a woman strode forwards, she wrapped a knotted piece of string around Reina's hips, waist, and bust before measuring the length of her arms and legs. "She starts at the Moulin Rouge tomorrow; she needs to make an impression." The woman nodded, her eyes never looking directly at Franklin, "have a bath prepared for her." As the woman left the two of them Reina quickly scooped up her clothes to try and give herself some modesty. Franklin traced his fingers across her slender shoulders and leant close, sniffing at her like a cat inspecting its meal. "You are frightened; do I repulse you that much?"

"No," Reina lied, "of course not…I'm just tired." She gasped as Franklin's lips captured her own; he pressed her close and slipped his arms around her waist.

"Come." He gently pulled her from the expensively furnished living room, taking her ragged clothes he dropped them on the floor and kicked them aside. He led her down a narrow corridor filled with candles; he pushed a door on the left open and gently nudged her over the threshold.

"Your home is beautiful," she gasped as her eyes fought to take in the brilliant gold and white bathroom. She looked down at her feet and cringed as they left footprints against the pure white floor. The room was thick with steam and a sweet smell, her eyes widened to take in every detail. In the middle of the white glossy room were steps leading up to a circular bath that seemed as if it could fit several people with room to stretch out and swim. Through the steam she could make out golden taps. She felt fingers brush her hair away from her back and the strings of her corset being tugged. Franklin's lips pressed against the bare skin of her shoulder and down her back as he finished unlacing her corset and stripping her of her undergarments. She ducked her head so she could use her waist length hair to provide some cover, but as Franklin stepped around he tilted her chin up and brushed her hair back behind her.

"Do not hide yourself from me," he commanded gently slipping his own jacket from his shoulders. It pooled on the floor in a heap and Reina watched in horror as his silk waistcoat followed.

"They'll be destroyed!" She gasped leaning down to gather them up, the amount he paid for these clothes would have most likely paid the rent for a new and safer home for her and mother, and for food for at least a year! Yet he discarded them as casually he did her own clothes, which were worthless!

"Leave them," he ordered sharply and she dropped the waistcoat. When she stood upright she was shocked to find he had shed the rest of his clothing. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his broad chest and strong arms. She couldn't bring herself to look any lower and she swallowed a lump of fear. Franklin turned his back on her and approached the bath, when he turned back he was holding two crystal flutes with a sparkling pale liquid. He held out a glass for her and she gratefully accepted, knocking the fizzy liquid down in one gulp. She had barely eaten all day except for a stale piece of bread with a spoonful of gruel. The liquid settled uneasily in her stomach and she felt her senses begin to cloud. As Franklin drained his own glass and set both down once more she felt as if she were beginning to float, she didn't even notice as he took hold of her wrist and turned it over so her palm was lying facing upwards. He brought her palm to his lips and planted a trail of feather light kisses down from the base of her fingers to the middle of her wrist, his dark eyes never leaving her own bright ones. "_This_ is what it means to be your patron," he bared a set of fangs and Reina let out a scream as he buried them into her wrist. She tried to pull her wrist free but the fangs were buried deeply and she could feel them buried into her veins. _If I pull I'll die!_ She realised in horror sinking to the floor as sucked more blood from her wound._ This is not real, please Lord, please!_ When he released her she watched in horrified fascination as he licked at the bloody wound. "Your blood," he gasped dropping onto his knees and pinning her to the floor. "So refreshing, like a fruit cocktail. Taste it." He pressed his bloody mouth against hers, forcing her to taste her own blood. Reina shook her head feeling as if she might pass out; she tasted nothing refreshing nor fruity. She tasted copper. Desperately she tried to sit up but he kept her pinioned to the floor with his legs. His right hand grasped her neck keeping her head against the tiled floor, his left one grazing down to breast and lightly brushing across her nipple. Despite herself Reina gasped as a shock of pleasure coursed through her.

"We shouldn't." She bit back a moan as his finger and thumb began to roll her nipple, teasing it softly. Swiftly he jumped up and gathered her into his arms, his right arm resting behind her knees while his left took hold of her waist. He moved so fast Reina barely had time to register that he had stopped his assault on her mouth.

"I am your patron Reina," he walked up the steps to the bath and stepped into the water, hissing as the scalding water gushed over his thighs. He gently lowered her into the water and pressed her back against the edge of the bath, allowing her head to loll on the rim. "You cannot go back there intact, Charles will not allow it." He pushed her face to face him and pressed his lips against hers, he took the hand that he had bitten and guided it down to his length. She was shocked at how cold it was, even in the heat of the bath, but she was terrified at the hardness of him. "Do you see what you do to me?" He asked in between kisses as he guided her hand up and down in stroking motions. He licked a tear free from her cheek and brought his hands up to her breasts once more. She couldn't help the small moans which escaped her lips as he caressed and teased her nipples. She felt herself begin to _ache_ with the need for him. It was an ache that brought her pain, but along with it came an undeniable pleasure.

"Please," she whispered her head rolling to the side and her back arching to press herself closer to him. _This is wrong_, her mind was trying to stop her but her body yearned for him. "I'm not a whore!" She gasped as his mouth moved down to suckle at her left nipple.

"No," he whispered bracing his arms on either side of her. He drove himself into her, eager for the release. "You are mine." He sank his fangs into her neck ignoring her screams.


End file.
